


Rotations

by starlurker



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Ficlet Collection, Kissing, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-10
Updated: 2010-11-10
Packaged: 2017-12-10 10:51:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlurker/pseuds/starlurker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of kisses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rotations

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for foxxcub's kissing meme. Cleaned up and expanded upon.

Saito kissed her like the world was ending, which was surprising because she didn't think he would have kissed like that. Ariadne imagined courtly and sedate affection in public and maybe those kisses engineered to take you down at the knees in private, the few times she thought about Saito in that context at all. She never imagined this kind of desperation, as if he wanted to make himself known.

They ended up having to kneel in the middle of an abandoned Piccadilly Square. The Eye was spinning fast, each car spinning its own erratic rotations. The cars on the road, or rather off it, were suspended in mid-air in various configurations and positions like a Japanese giant robot anime. Ariadne remembered opening her eyes and seeing the roof of an Aston Martin over her head. It was then that Saito pulled back and said, "Should I be offended that you're looking at cars?" and all Ariadne could say was no, no as she leaned back up into the kiss, as she felt Saito's hand on the small of her back, his other hand on the back of her head. Locked into place but comfortable.

He tastes like rum, she thought, dizzy from it.

***

Dom felt Ariadne tackle him from behind. Yusuf had warned them about the lingering effects of the new sedative, but he didn't think it would affect them this much. Arthur was skipping over puddles in big red rainboots. Eames was making airplane sounds as he ran with his arms stretched out. Dom had thought Ariadne wasn't affected considering how perfect her Bangalore was.

He should remember to tell Yusuf to reduce the Zaleplon-like compound. A memory came back, one uncalled for, of his favorite toy gun, when he was still young enough to think that bullets painlessly took people down.

He turned over as Ariadne crawled over him.

"Hi," she said, beaming.

"You OK?" he asked. He felt a helpless grin stretch across his face. Foreign after so long.

She leaned down and pressed her lips to his, giggling all throughout and all he could think of was the taste and smell of artificial cherries.

"I am now," she said, and scampered off. Dom looked at blue skies and stayed on the ground for a while. He waited until the music kicked in.

***

Eames hated anti-gravity, and he especially despised the way Cobb played with it. The city block was composed of buildings falling down like Tetris blocks, only to levitate back up. He was stuck on top of the Sears Tower, waiting for it to flip so that he could leap to the floating Picasso sculpture drifting like a satellite.

Bloody Arthur making this look like a choreographed ballet. He didn't often feel jealous of Arthur's abilities except this one.

"Eames, watch out!" He turned around too late as Cobb was knocked off his feet and they slammed together against a window, face to face, mouth to mouth, far too close. They shared breaths for a few seconds until the ground beneath them and the walls around them stabilized. Cobb got back up and extended a hand.

"You OK?"

"Wonderful," Eames said flatly. Of course it had to be the wrong person. The Picasso sculpture drifted by like a leaf. Eames shot the windows open and took a flying blind leap and held on. When he was on secure footing, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

***

Saito said, "This isn't a dream." It felt like a lie.

Across from him, Eames opened his eyes. 

Saito wasn't usually attracted to white men, but he was intrigued by Eames and his flexibility. He had never indulged himself with Englishmen in particular, with even the most refined seeming coarse to him. The endless complication of women was a worthier tangle.

"Feels like it. Private jet. Casual wealth and elegance," Eames said. Saito sat and watched, fascinated as Eames slowly unbuttoned his shirt, as he unbuckled his belt.

"It's not," Saito said, and leaned across to taste those full lips, finally. It was worth the wait until an old song his mother sang filtered through. Saito's hand lingered on the emergency button, waiting, counting, smoothing over the polished plastic surface. His other hand undid Eames's seatbelt.

He drew back as he pressed the button and saw Eames get sucked out of the plane. Saito closed his eyes and decided to finish the song.


End file.
